


Rich is bae <3

by LiteralCancerTM, WatermelonAntlers



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: AU, Blood, Fanfiction, Guns, Hurt, Kidnapping, Mafia!Jake, Police, Shooting, Texting, Violence, hinted richjake?, mafia, something I had to write for class, well more like SWAT
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-15
Updated: 2017-11-20
Packaged: 2019-02-03 00:43:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12737598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiteralCancerTM/pseuds/LiteralCancerTM, https://archiveofourown.org/users/WatermelonAntlers/pseuds/WatermelonAntlers
Summary: Something I had to write for class, so it's really short. Basically Jake is in the mafia and stuffffffff soooooo yeah





	1. Rich's side I guess

There was a time when the Goranski family was extremely happy. Those were times of prosperity. Then the youngest brother died.

It all started on a lazy Saturday afternoon, after Rich’s brother- Adrien- went to babysitting their cousins, as per usual. His mother called me into the den, noticeably upset. She stood at the open door, a cop standing outside, hat off. “Mom, what’s going on?” he asked.

She looked back at him, mascara and tears streaking her face. “Y-your brother,” she choked out.

Looking to the cop, Rich was questioning him with only his eyes, he knew his mother would be no help here. His heart beat faster and beads of sweat ran down his forehead as he waited for the man to answer. “Today, your brother was killed by gunshot at three twenty-two while walking to his babysitting job. Paramedics were not able to save him.”

In one long moment, Rich’s heart dropped like a stone in his chest, he wasn’t able to stop the downpour of tears that streamed down his face. “W-What do you mean?” the teenager stuttered shakily.

The man looked at him sympathetically. “I’m sorry, kid.”

\---

The past few weeks were hard for the Goranski family, filled with sorrow. Rich was finally forced to go to school. As he walked down the halls he hated the gazes his peers gave him. Their eyes were filled with sympathy, something Rich did not need. He hated them all and all those God-awful looks. Everything and everyone, except one guy named Jake Dillinger. They had been best friends since grade school, and Rich could always find comfort within Jake’s arms.

Relieved to spot his buddy down the hall, Rich ran over to him then opened his own locker. He was glad for Jake, he never treated Rich differently. “I heard what happened,” Jake mentioned, “You doing alright?” Rich checked the taller teen’s eyes, to find minimal sympathy. Good.

“Just fine,” Rich replied, standing on his tiptoes to reach the top of his locker. “Hey, uh, little help?” Jake chuckled and grabbed Rich’s history textbooks for him. 

“I still don’t understand why you put your stuff up there,” Jake told him, “You can’t even reach.” 

Rich glared. He then glanced around nervously. “Is everyone staring at me?” he asked, suddenly deathly pale. 

“Yeah bro,” Jake confirmed, shaking his head in disapproval at the other students. “But don’t worry about them, ignore it.” Rich nodded. “Hey, do you want me to walk you to class, or..?”

“No,” Rich snapped, “I don’t need an escort to class.” He softened a bit and turned away. “Sorry, but I-”

Jake interrupted him. “Hey, I understand, bro. You’re a little on edge after… yenno.. Your little brother.” Rich could’ve sworn that he saw a glint of regret somewhere in Jake’s eyes. Rich slammed his locker shut and spun away, abruptly leaving Jake alone. 

\---

Funsized: D00d what's up u r liek acting shady bruh

Dil-lingering-smell: wot do u meannnnn?????????? 

Rich rolled his eyes, how could he not know?

Funsized: Can u not play dumb like wth 

Dil-lingering-smell: uhhhhhhhhhhh ????? idk wat u talking about bro

Funsized: u liek always act weird around meh 

Dil-lingering-smell: who wouldn't? I don't wanna trigger u or anything dude u jus gotsta chill out

Rich stared angrily at his phone, chill out? What the heck was that supposed to mean? He didn’t want to chill, he wanted to find his brother’s killer. How was he supposed to chill?

Funsized: with Jake i dont wanna chill i'm gonna find my brother's killer and bring him to justice and i'm not stopping for any1

Funsized: and what is ‘chill’ supposed to mean?????

Dil-lingering-smell: this is my point bro and if u do find the killer what r u gonna do?

Funsized: …. I didn't think that far yet

\---

Rich was walking home from school on a cloudy Tuesday, just minding his own business, as the crisp weather nipped at his nose, fingers, and ears. He spotted a white limousine with tinted windows pull around the corner behind him and follow slowly behind. A little nervous, he began to walk faster, taking out his phone and pretending to make a call. He had nothing to be nervous about if he was being rational, the car was probably just looking for a certain house. Right? 

Wrong.

The next thing Rich new, he was being dragged into the limo by a thick, buff man. He tried screaming, but the man had his hand clamped over Rich’s mouth. In his struggle against the man, he accidentally dropped his phone on the ground (because cliche).

Then, he blacked-out.

\--- 

Being tied up against your will in a basement that reeks of death and blood, is probably one of the most terrifying things a human being can experience. Especially when your captor is holding a gun in front of you. In the dark. Somewhere where you didn’t have a chance at guessing its location. This is all what Rich was faced with, he was absolutely, positively, horrified. 

As Rich struggled against rough ropes, a bright light was shone in his eyes. A short man in a suit stood before him, next to the huge man who took Rich. “Wh-where am I?” Rich asked, bowing his head to shield his eyes from the light. 

“Well that was an idiotic question,” the small man remarked, “but I may as well tell you since you are going to die anyway. You’re thirty feet underground, in the basement of my… operation base.” The man waved his hand as if to indicate that wasn’t really where he was. Rich couldn’t tell. Wait, ‘die’? Suddenly, the adrenaline hit him like a bus, causing him to struggle harder. “Struggling is futile, and even if you did escape, I have many men down here who could easily take you out.” The little man took out a pistol from a pocket in his suit jacket.

Rich’s mouth went dry, every limb felt numb, his muscles ached, heart pounded. He lost the strength to move, speak, and even breathe. Tears ran down his cheeks, sobs racked his body. The gun was pointed at his head, blank, cold eyes stared back at him. “Now, tell me what you know.”

“Kn-know?” Rich repeated, “I-I dunno...what y-you mean.” All he knew was that he was probably about to die-no, he was about to die, and that he was being held against his will.

“About Jake.” Pause. “Dillinger.” What about Jake? Nothing made sense, what did he have to do with anything? “I know you know.” Getting no response, the man sighed, then slapped Rich across the face. “ABOUT HIM ELIMINATING ADRIEN GORANSKI, YOU BLOODY IDIOT!” 

What. What? Of course! It all made sense now: Jake looking regretful as they talked about Rich’s brother; him disappearing at random times; his weird behavior around Rich. How could he not have realized? A careful look, eyes seeming to process something, was all the tiny guy seemed to need. “You don’t know, do you?” Rich shook his head vigorously. He turned to the other male beside him, “Get me the rookie who made this mistake after we’re done here.”

“Yes, sir.”

Turning back to Rich, the older man sighed heavily. “Well, since you know all of this, I must finish the job, I suppose-”

BANG!

Heads were turned to see a tall, buff man fall to the floor, blood oozing out of a hole in his skull. Jake! It was Jake, here to save Rich (probably)! “Rich!” Jake breathed, spotting Rich across the room. In what seemed to be a split-second, Jake was next to Rich, gun changing directions to shoot anyone who advanced forward, shooting anyone who tried to get closer. “I’m gonna get you outta here, buddy,” Jake whispered, clawing at the knot with one hand. 

Suddenly, Jake froze, eyes visibly widening. The man in the suit was behind Rich, holding the barrel of a pistol to the back of his head. The cold metal sent chills down   
Rich’s back, as he froze too. “Gagliano put the gun down,” Jake commanded.

“No.”

“PUT THE FREAKING GUN DOWN!” Jake yelled.

“I suppose I’m going to have to put both of you down now?” presumably Gagliano said. 

Jake laughed, shaking his head. The laugh sounded cold, dead, and full of pity, confusing Rich. What in the world was going on. The two obviously seemed to have some sort of relationship, but what kind? 

\---

Rich distinctly remembers the sound of a door banging against a wall, someone shouting the phrase “POLICE!”, gunshots, screams and shouts, the sound of blood splattering on the walls and the floor. The sounds echoed through his mind every night, haunting him, making him never want to sleep.   
Four months later, the interviews and questions slowed down. Four months later, Rich finally got the full story from Jake. Four months later, everything was almost back to normal. Four months later and his brother was still dead.

Rich had learned that Jake was the one who killed his brother. Jake never expected Rich to forgive him, and neither did Rich himself, but it ended up that way. The traumatized boy got the full story from Jake. The story where he was forced to do everything he did. The story where Jake wasn’t the villain, but the victim. The story where Jake hated himself every day. The story that convinced Rich to forgive him.

And just like that, Rich and Jake were best friends again. Just the way they liked it.


	2. Jakey-D bruh

I stare at the little guy at the other end of my gun, maybe twelve, thirteen? He’s held back by the grunts assigned to me, his eyes are clamped shut, expecting death at any second. My hand holding the gun to his temple is sweaty, and the gun is slipping from my grip. It’s not like I’ve never done this before, too many times to count. I should be used to it by now, but I’m not. Slowly I pull the trigger with by forefinger, there’s a bang, and the child falls limp.  
I don’t look...I never do.

The next moment I’m in my bed, sweaty, high on adrenaline, and anything but tired.  
“A dream,” I say to myself, running a hand through my hair. It’s black and spiked. I like it spiked, “Just a dream.”  
But it wasn’t.  
I take a deep breath in, trying not to cry out. I hate myself for what happened, what I did. ...It’s not like I have a choice anyway.  
Yes, you did.  
Shut up.

I crawl out of bed, I know too well that once I have one of those dreams I can never sleep for the rest of the night. Putting on some pants, I stumble out of my room. It’s a short walk from my room to the kitchen. I get a glass of milk from the fridge, and bring it to the living room. Netflix and milk are the two things that calm me for some reason. Now sitting on the couch, Netflix loads in front of me, and I’m at once met with where I left off on whatever show I decided to watch yesterday. I don’t know what show, every show I’ve watched seem like one big blur to me. Scrap that, my whole life is one big blur. 

* 

I walk into the main school building, passing by a few whispering people. People were always whispering. Though, this time something was different.  
“He’s finally back.”  
“It’s been a month!”  
“Three weeks Elizabeth.”  
“So what?”  
“Anyways, Rich Goranski is finally back.”  
Freezing dead in my tracks, I almost drop my textbooks. Rich was back? My best friend since the playground? The brother of Adrian, one of the kids I was assigned to kill a month ago? I stand in the frozen state for about a minute, before I remember that he told me yesterday that he was coming to school, and I start sprinting to where Rich would be. I may have been forced to kill his brother, but he is still my best friend. Besides, he doesn’t know that I killed Adrian. Before he left school for three weeks, every day he would wait for me at the northwest entrance to the school. Usually behind a tree that’s just as tall as he is, five feet. 

I arrive at the northwest entrance to see Rich leaning against a wall, “Rich!”  
Rich looked up from his phone, “Hey bro.”  
“I’ve missed you!” I begin to hug him, but then I stop myself. That’d just be weird to hug him.  
“We saw each other yesterday,” Rich laughed, “I was at your house. And the day before that I told you that I’d be AT SCHOOL YOU IDIOT!”  
“Still.” I laugh with Rich, and do that thing where I use Rich as an armrest. I know it makes him mad, that’s why I do it. 

*

I’m in the middle of math class when my phone vibrates in my pocket. I take it out, making sure the teacher doesn’t see, and check who it was who texted me. If it’s Mom or something, I’ll just wait until after class.  
Boss: Rachel Brooks, 17. Get it done by 12:00.  
I sigh, and type an answer.  
Dillinger: School goes until 1.  
Boss: I’m sorry?  
Dillinger: 13:00.  
Boss: So?  
Dillinger: I’m not skipping school.  
Boss: Do you want that to happen?  
Dillinger: It’ll happen sir.  
I put my phone back into my pocket, and lazily raise my hand. It’s up for five minutes before the teacher calls on me, “Yes Dillinger?”  
“I…” I make it seem as if I’m sick, “may I go to the bathroom? I feel like I’m going to puke.”  
“Go. Go now.” 

I didn’t sleep that night.  
*

The next day Rich and Jake were hanging out in front of the school, the lunch bell had rang just a minute ago. A couple other teens were also eating their lunches there.  
“I don’t know man, I think he’s-” Jake was interrupted by a small little freshman running over to them.  
“Oh my gosh,” she panted, “I gotta get back into shape.” The freshman cleared her throat, and brushed non-existent dirt off of her pants. “You’re - you’re Rich Goranski right?” She asked Rich, completely ignoring Jake.  
“Uhm… yes.” Rich took a bite of his sandwich.  
“I’m sorry.”  
“What?”  
“For your loss,” the freshman elaborated, crouching down so she was eye level with Rich, who was sitting on the grass.  
Rich groaned, “Don’t be.” it was no secret that Rich was tired of everyone’s pity. Rich stood up, “Come on Jake.”  
Jake looked at Rich for a moment, he felt guilty. He was the cause of all this, he killed Rich’s brother. “Yeah,” Getting up to follow Rich, Jake’s voice broke, “I’m coming.” 

*

That night Jake was watching some weird reality tv show when he got a text from Rich.  
Funsized: D00d whats up u r liek acting shady bruh  
Jake stared at the text for a minute, was Rich onto him?  
Dil-lingering-smell: wot do u meannnnnn??????????  
Funsized: Can u not play dumb liek wth  
Dil-lingering-smell: uhhhhhhhhhhh ????? idk wat u talking about bro  
Of course Jake knew what Rich meant, he wasn’t an idiot. Jake just couldn’t have Rich discover what he did.  
Funsized: u liek always act weird around meh  
Dil-lingering-smell: who wouldnt? I dont wanna trigger u or anything dude u jus gotsta chill out  
Jake knew he messed up as soon as he sent the text.  
Funsized: wth Jake i dont wanna chill im gonna find my brothers killer and bring him to justice and im not stopping for any1  
Jake sighed, whenever this was brought up, it brought up another wave of self-loathing. Rich was going to find out someday, he is going to hate Jake. Scrap that, Rich already hates Jake, he just doesn’t know that it’s Jake.  
Funsized: and what is ‘chill’ supposed to mean?????  
Dil-lingering-smell: this is my point bro and if u do find the killer what r u gonna do?  
Funsized: …. I didnt think that far yet  
Putting his phone on silent, Jake put it down and turned off the tv. He went to go get a glass of milk, hoping to drown his guilt in the cow liquid.

 

*

That night Jake was called to the office at one in the morning, for what though, he didn’t know. Entering the office, Jake was met with the dwarfish figure of his boss. To someone who didn’t know him, he would be just as intimidating as Spongebob. Though Jake knew his boss, and his boss was basically third Hitler. Third Hitler being Donald Trump.  
“Dillinger, about time.”  
“Give me a break,” Jake complained, pushing past his boss. He quickly stopped, realizing that there was no way that his boss would stand for what Jake just did without at least an apology. “Sorry sir.”  
“Better be.” The boss retorted. “Now come on, follow me.” The boss started walking down a hallway, a hallway Jake knew led to the torture chambers. Jake knew better to question what the boss wanted him to do in the torture chambers.

Jake’s boss led him to the door of chamber #2, but the boss stopped just outside of the door.  
“Before we enter, Dillinger, there’s something you should know.” The boss stared at Jake intensely, if Jake didn’t know better he would say there was guilt in the boss’ eyes. The boss didn’t have guilt. Or emotions for that matter.  
Jake raised an eyebrow, “Yes?” he crossed his arms.  
The boss hesitated before answering, which was unusual for him, “The guy in there… we have good reason to believe he knows about one of our members being… well a member.” The boss broke Jake’s stare, “Just go in and see who he is, and don’t freak out when you do okay?”  
“Uh, okay?” Jake said. He grabbed the door handle and opened it to see an unconscious Rich tied to a chair. “The heck!?” Jake spat in his boss’ face, not caring about his boss’ temper. He slammed the door shut again.  
“Like I said,” The boss began, “we have evidence that he knows abo-” he was cut off by Jake.  
“If he did he would’ve at least mentioned it to me!” Jake subconsciously used his height to his advantage and leaned over his short boss, he was more intimidating that way.  
“Well, you see, he did.” Jake’s boss cleared his throat, and pulled a tablet out from the inside pocket in his jacket. He turned it on, and on the screen was the text conversation Rich and Jake had earlier that day. “He didn’t say it directly, but, hey - subtext.”  
Jake closed his eyes, and went to his happy place, rubbing his temples as he was there. A minute later he spoke, “I don’t suppose I have a choice to do or not do whatever you want me to do to him?”  
“What? Uh, yeah… If I understand you correctly Dillinger, you’d be correct.”  
Jake nodded, ‘What am I doing tonight?”  
“Supervising.” Jake’s boss stated, “In case your… friend tries something.”  
Jake nodded and swallowed hard, “Yes sir.”

*

In the room Rich had woken up, had a grunt restraining him, and Jake’s boss was standing in front of Rich. Watching through an one-way window, and listening through speakers, Jake watched a scene lay down in front of him.  
“Wh-Where am I?” Rich asked, he was only bound to the chair, not gagged or blindfolded.  
"“Well that was an idiotic question,” Jake’s boss remarked, “but I may as well tell you, since you are going to die anyway. You’re thirty feet underground, in the basement of my… operation base.” The small man motioned to the area around him with his hand. Rich took a moment to process what the boss told him, and then began to struggle against the ropes binding him to the chair. Jake’s boss shook his head, as his he pitied Rich, “Struggling is futile, and even if you did escape, I have many men down here who could easily take you out.” He took out a small pistol out of his pocket, and rested it against Rich’s temple. “Tell me what you know.”  
“Kn-know?” Rich repeated, “I-I dunno...what y-you mean.” Rich looked like he was about to cry. Jaked hated seeing Rich like this, it was his fault.  
“About Jake.” Pause, and Jake’s boss rolled his eyes. “Dillinger. I know you know Goranski.” Rich was unresponsive, and Jake flinched in what he knew was coming for Rich. It was not good. The boss sighed after a minute of silence, and then slapped Rich across the face. It left a bright red mark. “ABOUT-,” Jake’s boss was suddenly yelling. Rich flinched back at the sudden increase of volume, and Jake turned down the volume on the microphone. “-HIM ELIMINATING ADRIEN GORANSKI! YOU BLEEDING IDIOT!”  
Jake swore, “Just great.” he said to no one in particular. Neither his boss or Rich could hear him.

“You…” Jake’s boss suddenly leaned away from Rich, reading Rich’s eyes. “You don’t know, do you?”  
As if his life depended on it, Rich shook his head. “N-No… I-I don’t.”  
Jake’s boss turned to the grunt guarding the door, “Get me the rookie that made this mistake after we’re done here.”  
“Yes sir.”  
Jake’s boss sighed again, “Well I guess since you know all of this now,.. I have to finish the job.”  
Oh heck no, Jake would not let that happen. He raced out of the room, and grabbed the little pistol he always kept with him. Quickly entering torture chamber #2, Jake fired the gun at the grunt guarding the door. Sure it was an unnecessary death, but it would only be a small mark on Jake’s list. 

“Rich!” Jake called his friend’s name, slightly out of breath. He still wasn’t used to killing. Jake aimed the gun at his boss, not caring about later effects. “Back away from Rich.”  
In return Jake’s boss aimed his gun at Jake, “No.”  
Jake fired the gun at his boss’ wrist, not intending to kill. Just so he would drop the gun, which he did. Jake ran over to Rich, and started to untie the ropes. “I’m gonna get you outta here, buddy.” He whispered to Rich.  
Suddenly Jake felt something cold held up against the back of his head, Jake had to say it was a familiar feeling. A gun. Without moving his head, Jake looked over his shoulder. His boss was standing there, holding his gun with his left hand. Apparently getting shot in the wrist didn’t phase him. “Gagliano, put the gun down.” Jake commanded, it was the first time he’d ever referenced his boss as anything other than boss.  
“No.” Gagliano responded stone cold, from behind Jake.  
“PUT THE FREAKING GUN DOWN!” Jake yelled, suddenly enraged. This man was the man who ruined his life, the man who made him kill all those people. Just because he has some stupid blackmail over him.  
“I suppose I’m going to have to put both of you two down now?” Gagliano responded, as nonchalantly as one could in this situation.  
Jake just laughed, a cold, dead laugh. Shaking his head, he laughed harder. A tinge of pity lined the laughter. He couldn’t pinpoint the reason why he was laughing, he just was. It was something inside of Jake, some deep hidden emotion that he’s repressed for so long that have finally surfaced out of Jake. 

All in one swift motion, Jake twisted so he was facing Gagliano. While twisting, Jake also punched Gagliano in the face, and he slammed his right foot against Gagliano’s left heel. The result of which being Gagliano falling to the ground, dropping the gun, and clutching his face. Then when Jake bent down to grab the dropped gun, suddenly sounds of multiple feet hammering against the upstairs roof, the roof, sounded. Before Jake could do anything, the sound of feet ran down and over to just outside the torture chamber.  
“DROP YOUR WEAPONS!” Came a loud voice from the other side of the wall. “IT’S THE POLICE!” On instinct Jake wanted to run, but there was nowhere to run. The police blocked the only exit. “WE’RE COMING IN!” The police knocked down the door, it wasn’t a very secure door, and suddenly multiple police officers surrounded Rich, Jake, and Gagliano. All of them had loaded guns aimed at the three of them.  
Jake dropped the guns he was holding, there was nothing else to do except play the victim.

*

Thankfully the police and the media believed that both of the two teens were just victims of the scene, despite Jake being far from just a victim. The interviews and general media attention lasted for about four months. A bit much, but it’s not everyday a mafia is discovered in such a small town. During those four months, Rich and Jake never really got to talk. Jake never got to explain to Rich about the whole Adrian thing in the first four months. It wasn’t until the first day of the fifth, did they even get to have a private conversation. Jake explained to Rich about being blackmailed into doing all of it, and by some miracle, Rich forgave him for killing his brother. Rich wasn’t generally a forgiving person, but when it came to Jake, he was practically Jesus.

And, as cliche as it sounds, they all lived happily ever after. Well, except for Gagliano of course.

**Author's Note:**

> trash


End file.
